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OK. What Were YOU Afraid Of?


Fear is an interesting thing. There are a couple oddball things that each of us was afraid of while growing up but they're not long enough to be stories... I'm going to start off with my "fraidy things" and we'll add new ones as we think of them.


We lived in a rather old house with a huge basement; living room, dining room, kitchen on the first floor; three bedrooms and one bathroom on the second floor and an attic with a full flight of stairs leading up to it... there were several "rooms" on that floor but it was mainly used for storage.

Round about the time the third child was born (I think) Dad and Mr. Farraccio added a 1/2 bathroom on the first floor. It was in an old coat closet. There actually was a window (stained glass, no less) and was a VERY TINY space. Below is a picture of the door... to that bathroom- I think of it now as....

MB, Nancy, and the door to the mingtree


For some unknown reason, I was scared to DEATH of this plant that was wayyyyyyyyyyy up on the window sill. It wasn't a fluffy little thing, it had no pretty leaves... and it actually wasn't even a ming tree... I think it was a bonsai, but it was horrid looking... a misfigured, gnarly trunked, hideous thing in a pot. An abberation of nature! I couldn't use the bathroom... I was too scared to even consider it... I would rather walk up the full flight of stairs to the upstairs bathroom than enter that coat closet/bathroom on any day or night!


I quake and quiver just looking at this photo! I don't know why, but I was sure it was able to escape from its pot and could attack (I guess while on the pot).

I am not sure whatever happened to that old ming tree...
I'd be careful if I were you!


Then, of course, there was that Indian in the Basement. LONG before there was an Indian in the Cupboard in books or film, we had one hiding out in our basement. Ours, actually was an Indine (pronounced in-din- ee). I never SAW the Indian, but I was pretty sure he was there. Come to think of it... WHO might have told me that?

The only way to turn the light on in the basement was to walk down the entire staircase, walk 7 or 8 steps in total darkness, hold your hand in the air to feel for the little string, grab it and pull. That was just TOO DARN MUCH TIME in the dark for my taste. That would certainly give the Indian a full 10 seconds to get the jump on you! Needless to say, the Indian in the Basement never did harm anyone- but when I was married with children, WE had one in our basement too!


Oh. Updating this page, I just thought of another "fraidy thing"... SWANS. I will have to write the story of the huge bread bag and being TERRORIZED by a flock of swans... another day.


Check back for more "What were you afraid of" stories including "The Eyes in the Attic"






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